


Burn It Down

by TaraLaurel1



Category: Four Brothers (2005)
Genre: Brotherhood, Brotherly Love, Brothers, Drama, Family, Halloween, Suspense, Thriller
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-05
Updated: 2014-02-05
Packaged: 2018-01-11 07:45:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1170497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaraLaurel1/pseuds/TaraLaurel1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Jack just stood there, watching this stranger die, somehow unable to look away, or even move. He was completely, utterly, frozen." Pre-movie short story. A belated Halloween story. Jack gets into some trouble when he goes off on his own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

There were two things Jack Mercer knew to never, ever, under any circumstance, discuss with his brothers. The first taboo topic was his music. The second, and most important, was girls. That was, unless Jack actually desired to be tormented, followed by having his guitar or girlfriend receive equal harassment. His older brothers had swiftly scared off several young ladies, some simply by learning his last name.

So when both Angel and Bobby were going to be back home at the same time, Jack was not his normal excited self. He never could keep a secret from them, especially Bobby. He could discreetly distract Jerry and Angel usually was too lethargic to keep pushing and quickly lost interest. Bobby, however, didn't believe in giving up. Jack had been busted by Bobby on bad grades, drugs and who broke Evelyn's Supremes album. Keeping a living, breathing human being a secret would be an entirely new level of deceit.

Of course, Jack had one thing on his side. One of the few things that just might be enough to distract the eldest Mercer and keep his attention honed elsewhere.

Halloween.

It was quite possibly Bobby Mercer's favorite day of the year. With all four brothers home for the haunting holiday, he would surely be planning something explosive, possibly literally.

"You need all this for tonight?" Jack questioned skeptically, scanning the crumpled list that had been handed to him by his eldest brother.

"Shit yeah," Bobby scoffed, "if you want to do this night up right we do. Meet us there in an hour."

"Why can't Jerry or Angel or  _you_ get it?" Jack folded the list into his pocket, knowing he would be going to the store one way or another.

"'Cause you just look so damn young and innocent compared to the rest of your big brothers," Bobby cackled, "besides, we got some other shit we got to take care of."

"I don't even wanna know," Jack declared, turning and shuffling out the door happily.

Of course he would get the grunt work. Of course he would be the designated "gopher". Jack knew his brothers well enough to know the basics of their schemes. He still had to gripe, though. Jack always complained. He loathed being treated like an errand boy and then told to wait aside while the real action went down. This time, though, he was ecstatic.

Usually, when Bobby was back in town, at least ever since the little drug bust, Bobby was breathing down Jack's neck with every move he made. Finding time alone to sneak away would have normally been impossible. Now, Bobby was unknowingly handing him a way out and Jack did not hesitate to grab it.

Jack also knew he would catch literal hell later for what he was about to do, but he also neglected to care. Being with her was worth it. A night alone with her on Halloween canceled out anything his brothers would do to him later. He had long ago promised her that this night would be theirs together and he wasn't about to go back on that now.

Jack smiled softly to himself. He had two surprises in store for the night. One, for his disappointed and furious brothers. The other, for his hopefully happy girlfriend.

Jack had no idea he was about to walk into a horrific surprise of his own.


	2. Surprise Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Angela isn't supposed to be a MS or anything too special. It's more about Jack anyway. Angela is just a generic OC girlfriend I wrote for the situation. If you don't like her, I apologize.

"I thought we were goin' to a party," Angela huffed as she surveyed the hollow home in front of her.

"Huh," Jack shrugged. "Musta' been a different abandoned building. You know, there are so many in this shithole city. Probably went to the wrong one."

"Very funny, Jack," Angela pouted, attempting to pull away from her boyfriend's grasp.

"Hey, this can be a party," Jack spoke playfully, pulling Angela up the front steps and through the unwelcoming door. "You. Me." Jack paused and pulled a case of beer from his bag. "Alcohol. It's a party."

"Oh, you're so romantic, Jack Mercer. That sounds more like Bobby's style."

"Oh yeah?" Jack cocked an eyebrow.

He released his girlfriend momentarily and turned his backpack upside down. The contents spilled onto the floor. The two knelt down to sort through the pile together.

"Cigarettes." Angela picked up the carton approvingly. "Twinkies, beef jerky. Crackers? Oreos? Carrot sticks? Jack –"

"Okay, so I'm cheap."

"Cheap?" Angela laughed. "More like a thief. Again, very Bobby. This is all from your mother's kitchen, isn't it?"

"Maybe," Jack couldn't hold back a thin smile.

"I love you," Angela tore open one of the unhealthy yellow cakes and leaned in to kiss the boy she had known she loved since the third grade.

"Is that me you're sayin' that to – or Bobby?" Jack teased.

"Totally Bobby."

"I'm sure," Jack grinned and pressed his lips against hers.

"So, what is all this, then?" Angel waved her hands around the pile of pilfered goods and the dim den they were currently sitting in. "The stolen food? The house?"

"It's a celebration," Jack spoke almost bashfully.

"You celebrate Halloween with Twinkies?"

"Last Halloween." Jack's voice was serious. "The party in that old barn outside of town. The first night we –" he trailed off, linking his fingers with hers.

"You mean the night I got wasted and high and threw myself at the first loser I saw who then took advantage of me?" Angela smirked. "What? Planning for a rerun?"

"'Countin' on it," Jack's voice was slow and deep in that tone that Angela could never resist.

Before their mouths could meet again, there was a loud cry of laughter from outside, followed by various voices and hollering. Jack reluctantly pulled away from his girlfriend and went to the window. Peering discreetly through the boards, Jack bit off a curse and hurried back to Angela's side.

"What?" Angela questioned, a tremble in her voice as she watched Jack clumsily shoving everything back in his bag. "Who is it?"

"We got to go, now." Jack's rich tone was now scratchy with fear. "It's 7th Street. Donnie Wessen and his loyal band of fucking sadistic psychos."

"What?" Angela leapt up off the floor and glanced back towards the blocked window. "What are they doing here?"

"Get high, drunk, kill somebody, dump a damn body, who the fuck knows? I don't fucking plan on being around to find out."

The voices grew closer and Jack swung the backpack over his shoulder.

"Shit. They're comin' inside. Come on."

Angela willingly let Jack grab her hand and the two fled up the stairs. Jack Mercer wasn't a coward. He didn't run from a fight. But he also didn't stick around for certain death.

"Are you crazy?" Angela hissed. "Don't you watch scary movies? You never run upstairs."

"The back door is jammed," Jack whispered back in agitation. "I stopped by earlier – you know – to make sure the place was safe."

Angela didn't know if she felt flattered or furious.

"Well, it's not safe now," she retorted hotly. "Please tell me this is some incredibly fucking stupid joke and it's your brothers out there."

"I wish," Jack sighed.

As far as Jack knew, his brothers were on the other side town, probably tearing it apart looking for him. He would have gladly taken their verbal lashing for ditching them over the gang members outside.

"What are we going to do?" Angela squeezed Jack's hand.

"We can wait up here until –"

"Come on in boys!" A gravelly voice breeched the silence of the house.

Jack recognized that voice. Donnie Wesson. He wasn't just some gangbanger or drug dealer. Bobby had even warranted him the title of a "brutal bastard". He worked for Malcolm Sweet, but was known for being even more ruthless and sadistic than even his boss. Jack had tangled with thugs and had spent a lot of time with dealers before those habits were thoroughly stumped out by his family. Still, Jack had never messed around with anyone on the top of the street food chain and didn't feel like changing that tonight.

"Bring our guest inside too," Wesson cackled.

There was shuffling and a loud thud against the floor.

"Help him up," Donnie spat. "Look at this? You're fucking bleeding all over my new shoes. These are worth more than your life." He paused and laughed. "Fuck, my piss is worth more than your life right now."

"Please, Donnie, I swear, I didn't –"

"Don't. Fucking. Lie. To. Me."

Jack was sure he heard the sickening sound of a bone breaking. Angela's grip tightened again. They weren't there to get high or drunk. They were there to have a party; their own sick, violent version of a party.

"Bring him upstairs!" Donnie's thunderous tone made Angela gasp. "Rico – you stay down here. Anyone comes by, you know what the fuck to do."

The creaking steps snapped Jack into motion. He yanked Angela as quietly and quickly as possible down the hallway. They hurried into a bedroom and were about to lock the door behind them when the footsteps grew louder. Jack pushed Angela into the closet, hastily joining her and shutting the doors. No sooner had he done so, did the door to the room crash open. Jack couldn't help risk peering through the crack. Three imposing men stalked inside. Two of them dragging a rag doll of a man with them. They discarded the mess of a human on the floor and stepped back.

"Danny, Danny, Danny," Wesson sign-songed playfully as he circled the pathetic poor soul. "See what you make me do? It's Halloween. I wanna have some fun. Instead, I have to clean up after your mess. You know how that makes me look? Huh?"

Donnie sent a fist across the man's jaw.

"Well, I wanna have some fun. So, tell you what I'm gonna do. I'm gonna beat, every, last, cent you cost me out of your sorry ass." Donnie began using punches to accentuate his words. "I am gonna watch you bleed. Then I'm gonna watch you burn. Now,  _that_ sounds like fun. Do you know why I brought you here, Danny-boy? Do you?! Take a good look around. 23 years ago. We were workin' our first job together, remember? You were supposed to take care of someone for the boss. We each had our marks. The only difference was mine never survived the night.  _Yours,_ was sitting downstairs drinking his morning fucking coffee the next day! So, like now, I had to clean up your fucking mess. The whole fucking family, Danny. It was fun too. You should've heard that pretty little teenage daughter scream. Oh, she was a treat. Mom too. I fucked 'em three ways from Sunday right in front of the old man before I put a bullet in his useless brain. Did the same for the mom. But the daughter, hmm." The man paused with his eyes closed and Jack had to resist the overwhelming urge to bust out of concealment and lunge at the monster while Angela trembled.

"I brought her in this room. Made a night of it. I think she started to like it. Carved her up real good after. Boy, she was a loud one. I wonder if I carve you up, will you scream like she did? Will you beg me to stop? I hope so."


	3. Shut Your Eyes

Jack felt Angela's hand slip from his as she covered her ears and pressed her eyelids closed. Violence wasn't a new sight or sound for the youngest Mercer, but even he was ready to heave. Sure, he was used to pain and blood and death, but that didn't mean he liked it. Jack just stood there, watching this stranger die, somehow unable to look away, or even move. He was completely, utterly, frozen. Memories of a past life he had spent so long struggling to forget and overcome were now flashing in his mind, mixing and melding with the graphic scene in front of him. He heard his own childish shrieks echo in the man's screams. He felt his terror, his agony. He remembered that feeling of total helplessness, that your own life was not in your hands. Someone else was playing God with your very existence and there was absolutely nothing you could do. He recalled being so close to death that he could taste it. It wasn't something you ever forgot or really got entirely over.

Eventually, Donnie became bored with his own fists. He moved on to a knife, fulfilling his earlier curiosity. The man certainly did scream. Jack was also sure he would remember that terrible, pleading voice for the rest of his life. Another demon to dance around in his nightmares. He had never ached so bad for a hit. His lips twitched and begged for at least a cigarette. Never before had he so desperately wished for his mother and brothers. Still, he didn't shut his eyes. Jack never shut his eyes. Not when he watched Mr. Larson beat Mrs. Larson with a baseball bat. Not when Mrs. Ryerson used his seven-year-old frame for a punching bag. And not when Mr. Ryerson came to him in his bed in the middle of the night. No, Jack never shut his eyes. Ignorance wasn't bliss. He had to know, had to see. He wouldn't – he couldn't live his life in fear and wondering.

The man named Danny wasn't screaming anymore. He no longer implored for mercy. He barely was whimpering. The man wasn't dead yet, but he certainly was no longer alive. He wasn't even in one piece. Jack imagined Bobby was going easy on this criminal by deeming him "brutal". He was far more than that. He was calculated, cold and concise. He reeked of arrogance and loved to hear the sound of his own grinding voice. He was an animal, stalking and then pounding on his prey. He took more than pleasure from his "work". Sadist, was merely scratching the service. Leave it to Malcolm Sweet to hire a psychopath.

Danny was still breathing, or at least, what was left of the beaten, broken and butchered shell of a man, when Wesson stood up. He was still crying when the two uncomely underlings began pouring liquid all over his unmoving body. They quickly moved from their victim to soaking the floorboards. The appalling aroma filled Jack's nostrils and he had been a Mercer long enough to know that smell from a mile away. He caged a curse and glanced up at Angela, who had peeled open her eyes into slits. They grew wide and alert as she connected with Jack's terror-stricken gaze.

The striking of a match seemed to reverberate like a warning scream against the walls of the house. Jack turned back just in time to see the small flame drop into the pool surrounding the man. Jack nearly cried out then, holding back a shout of protest and his own body from breaking through the doors.

The fire eagerly lapped up the liquid, and the dying man. In that instant, he screamed once more. Once, and only once. The flames put him out of his misery. Satisfied, Wesson and his two obedient shadows left the room, their roaring laughter fading as they went.

When he could no longer hear the wild pack, Jack hastily threw open the doors and pulled Angela out. The bright and red mass was quickly devouring the small room. The surveyed the damage briefly, Angela turning away in horror from the burning man. She hastily moved towards the door as Jack mechanically stepped forward toward the engulfed corpse.

"What are you doing?" Angela feebly pulled on Jack's arm.

Jack didn't respond and Angela's panic magnified.

"Jack?"

"I – I have to help him," Jack spoke in a small voice.

"He's dead, Jack," Angela tugged again but it was as if his feet were melting to the floorboards "He's gone." Angela swallowed, stepping in front of her boyfriend and grabbing his shoulders. "You can't help him. We have to get out of here before we're dead too. Please, Jack."

Jack was frozen and the flames seemed to turn and seek him out.

"Jack!" Angela shrieked, forcing more determination and demanding into voice than the fear and longing she was feeling.

Jack finally reeled back to reality. Without hesitation, he whirled around on the heel of his sneaker, scooped Angela's hand in his and made a break for the hallway. The blaze wasn't contained to only the one room. The murderous arsonists were thorough. The fire was consuming the entire gasoline saturated house, with Angela and Jack inside. The stairs were swallowed by the inferno and Jack could find no safe way of making the deadly descent.

"Come on!"

He urged his girlfriend forward, into another fiery room. He immediately rushed to the window, ripping away the few aged boards and kicking at those he couldn't. Jack offered Angela a long look before climbing out onto the overhanging roof. He was slipping back inside seconds later.

"We can get out this way," Jack reported as he gasped for oxygen. "Go out on the roof. There's a shed you can jump down to and then get to the ground. You go first."

Angela hesitated. The fear overriding any tough facade one tried to portray in this city.

"Go. I'll be right behind you."

Jack didn't care if he'd heard the line one hundred times in the movies. It worked for all the heroes in those films and, apparently, it worked for him. Silently, Jack thanked Bobby for all the horror and action movies he made his younger brothers sit through. He held out his hand and began helping his girlfriend through the opening when there was a thunderous crack. The entire house seemed to shift. The ceiling above them was groaning for relief. A small section broke off above the window. Jack let go off Angela, pushing her outside and his body in the path of the burning beam.

Jack let out a strangled cry as the weight and heat collided with his arm. He fell backwards in agony just in time to hear Angela scream.


	4. One Way or Another

Angela cart wheeled out the window and down the slanted roof. She was flipping over the side when her fingers caught the edge. Glancing down, Angela found herself nowhere near the shed. The only thing below her dangling feet was a two story drop. Angela pulled and kicked, feebly attempting to heave herself up. It wasn't long before her fingers began slipping. She called out for Jack, but was granted no response. It wasn't until the edge of the roof slid out of her grasp entirely when two sets of hands reached down. They grabbed her arms and soon she was back on at least somewhat solid ground. She stood warily and found herself being held by two familiar faces.

Jack couldn't breathe. He wasn't sure if it was the smoke, the shock, or the pain. Maybe it was all three. The flames had eaten the better part of his shirt sleeve and some of his skin. He had been burned as punishment before, but it had never felt like this. Everything was red and bright and hotter than he'd ever known anything to be. Another wave of flames lashed out at his flailing form, splashing up mercilessly against his leg. Another shriek ripped through his throat. Suddenly, fire wasn't the only thing advancing on him. A shadowed figure loomed over his shaking body. A force came down on Jack's leg, pushing out another painful grunt, but putting out the blaze. Arms reached out towards him and Jack struggled to squirm away, agony tearing through him with every flinch.

"Jack!"

Somehow the voice seemed far away, but still, Jack calmed and blindly reached out towards it. Strong hands lifted him off the ground. Jack's stinging arm swung around the savior's shoulder as he took weight off of his smoldering leg.

"Bobby?" Jack's voice was more a strained whisper of a cough.

"Shut up and move." Bobby barked in response, answering Jack's question and prompting him to walk forward.

"Angela –"

"I said 'shut up'. Jerry 'n Angel got her. Now, move that skinny ass of yours! Come on!"

"I can't," Jack gasped as white pain and heat shot through his limbs.

"Yes. You. Can." Bobby pushed. "Don't make me carry you. Wouldn't look too great in front of your girlfriend."

Jack released another cracking cry as Bobby helped him stumble forward through the blazing mess.

"How did you –" Jack's words disappeared in a rough cough.

"Trellis on the other side of the house," Bobby explained hurriedly as he guided his little brother down the hall. "Stupid kids. Jumpin' off roofs."

"It was a good plan," Jack remarked dejectedly before breaking into another fit of lung seizures.

"You'd think with all those damn cigarettes, you'd be immune to smoke or something," Bobby chided as they finally reached another room. The master bedroom was entirely swimming in flames, their escape path blocked. Bobby bit off a few choice words before leading Jack out into the hallway and back towards the other room.

"Nice," Jack mumbled under what was left of his breath.

"It was a good plan!" Bobby echoed his brother's previous argument. "Come on!"

Bobby slipped through the window Jack had sent Angela through and then quickly aided Jack in doing the same, the younger releasing his own string of cursing and yelps of pain.

"Think you can make the jump, princess?" Bobby asked as they neared the side of the overhang and suddenly felt the weight against him increase drastically.

Bobby turned to look at his now slumped over little brother. Jack's eyelids slid closed and Bobby grabbed the now unconscious teen with both arms before he collapsed entirely. Grabbing Jack's face, the eldest Mercer called out for his brother to wake up to no avail. The weight became too much and Bobby dropped to his knees, bringing Jack down carefully with him. Strained voices floated up to meet Bobby as his two other brothers shouted from below.

"He's out cold!" Bobby was surprised he could find his voice as his hand went to Jack's face. "Shit. Fuck! Jack! He ain't breathin'!" Bobby propped Jack's lifeless form up in his arms helplessly. "Come on Jack! Come on, man! You gotta' fuckin' breath now! Jack! Wake up the fuck up, you stupid, pain in the ass. So stupid! Jack!"

Bobby stared in horror at the unconscious form of his brother, and then quickly glanced back at the burning building. He debated throwing his limp little brother over his shoulder and making his way down to the shed's roof. He also considered somehow lowering him down to the awaiting Angel and Jerry. A thousand different scenarios flashed through his mind as precious seconds slipped by.

Bobby was going to save his brother, one way or another.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Please don't scold me about improper first aid procedure. How many seconds or reps etc he should do this, or that. I know, but I don't think Bobby would have taken the time to learn the finer points of emergency response…or CPR…or anything that involved learning….maybe hotwiring a car….okay…that's enough

Bobby was about to switch from berating his brother to actually saving him when sirens broke through the night. They grew loud and fast and Bobby prayed that they were coming for them. If by some miracle someone had actually called the police to report a fire on the most flame-laden time of year in Detroit and there had actually been a unit available.

Bobby thrust his hands wildly against Jack's chest. His palms beat against his brother's body with such force that the silenced, rational, part of Bobby's brain worried he would break his brother.

"Don't make me do this," Bobby groaned, glaring at the unconscious Jack.

With a grimace, but no room for hesitation, Bobby bent over and pressed his lips against his brother's. He forced his own breath into Jack. He huffed, desperately attempting to give his brother's lungs air.

Bobby had always given Jack everything he had. He found time, no matter where he was or what he was doing, to take his baby brother's frequent phone calls. He had given Jack his bed when the young Mercer had taken to terrible nightmares. He bought the scared child his first guitar. Bobby gave up a night with his girlfriend when Jack acquired the stomach flu. Then again, when Jack got the chicken pox a month later. And once more, after Jack suffered a concussion playing soccer. The kid who had purposefully blindsided his brother received more than that later. He had offered him all of the advice and knowledge that a father should have imparted on him, from fixing cars to firing a gun. He couldn't count how many faces he had happily smashed in for so much as threatening his baby brother. He would often slip Jack cash so that the youngest wouldn't have to ask Evelyn for it. Even now, Bobby would send a few bills Jack's way here and there. He didn't believe in hand outs, but he knew Jack was working his tail, and fingers and voice, off, for little return. Bobby had refused to leave his side while Jack detoxed and then suffered through the agonies of withdrawal. Bobby had missed two games during that time and for once received a suspension for something other than violence.

Now, Bobby would have sacrificed all the air and life inside himself for Jack.

The cough that cracked through his brother's throat was like angel's singing. Jack gasped and his eyes fluttered open tiredly.

"Bobby?" The hoarse voice scratched out a whisper.

"Yeah, Jack. I'm right here," Bobby grinned down at his breathing brother.

"What –"

"Too much smoke," Bobby explained before Jack could strain his throat further. "Maybe now you'll think about quitting. Just, relax, man. An ambulance is comin'."

"My arm –"

"Shut up," Bobby chuckled. "Don't be such a girl."

"It hurts," Jack clenched his teeth. "Burns. And my leg –"

"I know," Bobby swallowed and spoke soberly. "Just hang in there. Fire truck is here. They're gonna carry your lazy ass down 'cause I ain't gonna." Bobby shook his head. "Look at you. Playin' with fire without me around. I'm hurt here."

"I'll remember to set you on fire when we get home," Jack rolled his eyes, strength slowly returning. "How the hell did you find me?"

"I know my brothers," Bobby answered plainly, as his answer for most questions regarding his younger siblings. "Besides, you're so damn predictable, Jackie. Still, I can't believe you were stupid enough to do something like this."

"I can't believe you were smart enough to know what a trellis is."

Bobby frowned, but inwardly grinned.

"So," he started casually with a coy smile, "Jackie's got a girlfriend?"

Jack closed his eyes and suddenly wished to be back inside the burning building.


End file.
